


21

by thenewnationalanthem (moxielovesshipping)



Series: Sad, Sweet, and Sexy [14]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Birthday Party, Dancing, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Mark is Marcy, Past Relationship(s), Promiscuity, clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxielovesshipping/pseuds/thenewnationalanthem
Summary: He thinks she's had enough.





	21

**Author's Note:**

> Just another one shot like 18 where I gender swap the boys. You guys hate this don't you? i figured. Eh, I gave it a go.

He watched her from the bar as she took over the dancefloor, swaying and dancing and grinding her tanned hips on everyone in the club. Her black hair swished with her as he mixed his drink with his toothpick, blue eyes steady on her as she feels up yet another guy.

 

Finally, he's fed up with watching her get eye fucked by everyone in the club, and he sits down his drink, heading onto the floor.

 

"Excuse me." He says, grabbing onto her arm and pulling her ungracefully back to the bartop. She scowls at him and rolls her eyes, huffing. Her thick mascara is running slightly down her skin, giving the appearance that her shimmering brown eyes had been crying.

 

She fixes the strap on her fitting black dress, lucky flannel tied around her hips as she leans on the table with an expecting look. "What the hell are you doing, Jack?"

 

"Dontcha think it's time ta go home now?"

 

"What, why? I'm having a great time." She smiled, waving adorably at some random guy she spotted.

 

He remembers when he'd first seen that wink and wave combo.

 

It pulled him in, just like her chocolatey eyes.

 

Her smooth, soft voice.

 

Her defined curves and purposeful style of dress.

 

It all stood out to him.

 

It still did, but it was more of a nuisance.

 

"Marcy, It's 2am."

 

"If you're tired Jack, then leave. It's my twenty first birthday, I'm gonna celebrate." She argues, and he sighs as she places a small kiss to his cheek, grabbing his drink and taking a sip as she wiggles back onto the dancefloor.

 

"That your girlfriend?" The bartender asks, and he honestly laughs.

 

"At one point, yeah." He says, and the bartender, Wade he learns, smiles sadly at him.

 

"Bad break up?"

 

"Bad Karma." Wade sucks in a breath, and he waves off the gesture. "It's fer th' best. We're still friends. _Great_ friends."

 

"Oh yeah. She seems like a...nice girl." Wade responds, glancing over at her as she presses her body against some guy, lips inches away from him as she smirks, brushing her red stained raven hair from her eyes.

 

It's at this point that he realizes he has no idea why he's here.

 

It isn't like he'd _wanted_ to be here.

 

He hated clubs, they gave him a reason to drink.

 

More importantly, he hated to be left alone.

 

Which she always tended to do after begging him to come on the floor and dance with her.

 

It wasn't her fault he wasn't a good dancer, and he guessed it wasn't her fault that she was.

 

He sighed and paid the bartender, standing up with shaky legs and pulling out his phone.

 

**Jack**

 

_Come back to the apartment when you'd like. Happy birthday, Marceline._

 

He hits send, and he figures she or whoever she ends up with tonight will read it in the morning.

 

He loves her, he _really_ does, but he can't do this any longer tonight.

 

He takes the last swig of his drink and tips Wade, turning to see big, brown eyes staring at him half hooded.

 

They still do the same thing they used to.

 

He gives her a small smile, blowing her a kiss that she catches, then he stumbles out of the bar again for the third night in a row.

 

Cold, alone, and oh so regretfully.

 

He'd still come back tomorrow though, and the next day after that if she wanted to.

 

He routinely calls a cab, leaning against the outside of the doors and lighting a cigarette as he waits.

 

He doesn't turn and look when he hears heels clicking next to him.

 

He doesn't startle when he feels soft, warm skin against his in the form of an arm locked with his.

 

He only opens the door to the cab, letting her in first, because that's what he does.

 

She always comes back to Jack, twenty one or not.

 

They ride in silence as she lays her head and his lap, and he runs a soothing hand through her hair as she scrolls through her phone.

 

He gets distracted by nightlife when his phone pings, and he pulls it out of his jean pocket and opens it to a photo of them at the Eiffel Tower a few years ago. He types in the passcode, her birthday of course, and he sees a few things.

 

Some tweets, some Instagram likes, some Facebook posts, but mainly, a text.

 

She's fallen asleep in his lap now, dozed out and satisfied as he reads it, approaching their shared apartment.

 

**Marceline**

 

_I love you, Jacky :*_

 

He smiles at it, then closes his phone, ignoring the pang in his heart that that kiss was nothing but friendly.

 

But that's okay, because at least she came back.


End file.
